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When Life Hands You Lemons, Avoid Squirting It In Your Eye  

Posted by Heidi in ,


“Shhhh!” she admonished (she, being me) as she checked over one shoulder and then the other (lest the Middle Child sees what I am up to). The MC has put a moratorium on posting about her but I feel my blog is sadly unbalanced without amusing anecdotes concerning her. How would it look to future generations? How does it look to those who read it now? Rather hostile, I say, and that must be rectified!

The problem is, she is the only one here at Dunhaven Place in a position to have an opinion with regards to what I write. The Big Guy is oblivious, the Little Guy is honored (something he will no doubt grow out of) and The Spouse is always poised to be supportive whether he feels like it or not. The Middle Child, however, is at that age where childhood and adulthood run smack into each other, leaving a great big owie in it’s wake.

Still, the Middle Child has always been a bit of a serious kid, even as a baby. Now that she is older, she can be amusing, even wickedly funny for a barb or two, and she makes us laugh when she does her foreign accent imitations. Sadly, those things just don’t translate to a blog post. So, in desperation, I went to the notebook where I write down the amusing things my kids say and had a bit of luck. The following is something I hope won’t offend her. (I am sure she will let me have it, er, let me know if I erred. It's one of her special talents.)

When she was about three or four she one day piped up with this bright remark. “Granny is Grandpa’s life, isn’t she?” You can imagine the width and breadth of my reaction. I was impressed. I mean, who wouldn’t be? The kid was three (or four) and Granny and Grandpa lived in a different state, in fact, a different country at the time. To be so insightful about two people she rarely saw not to mention the complexities of human relationships was clearly evidence of a breath-taking intelligence. Besides, it was an incredibly romantic notion and I am a big fan of romantic notions. Well, I thought, mentally polishing my nails against my sleeve, she’s a pretty bright kid!

Bright, maybe. Annoying, yes! As the hours and days went on, she made the same remark over and over again and with a strange intensity. “Granny is Grandpa’s life, isn’t she?” and I would say, “Yes! Aren’t you so clever, yes, Granny is Grandpa’s life!” But, I have to say, I was feeling less and less impressed with each increasingly annoying repetition.

After a few days of this, she cornered me, the look in her eye just a shade short of that one would employ with the village idiot, and took my face between her pudgy hands. “Granny,” she said with an unnerving amount of concentration, “is Grandpa’s wife, isn’t she?”
And, there you have the Middle Child, the one who is always there to take me down a much needed peg or two. And yet, I find I am nonetheless quite fond of her. Take that, posterity!

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